Black Phoenix, Red Mule
by Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo
Summary: Post Fullbringer Arc. In 2015, the newly formed Soviet Confederacy of Korea went to war with the capitalist world. Not long after, Ichigo Kurosaki joined the Coalition to defend his home. After a decade of a war that took the lives of more than a billion people, the fighting ends. Entering Soul Society, Kurosaki pledges to find those he lost in battle.
1. Chapter 1

This is a Repost of the story which I'd taken down from my other account.

Disclaimer: Bleach and all of its characters do not belong to me. However the idea does, so if you take it without my knowledge, in the words of Liam Neeson, "I don't know who you are, but I will find you,"

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January 19th 2025 CE, Beijing, Formerly China

Major Uryuu Ishida, Coalition Special Forces

My body slammed to the floor, kicking up the previously resting dust of destroyed masonry. I brought my rifle from across my shoulder, flicking down the stand and bringing the butt to my shoulder. I rested my chin on the synthetic stock and closed my right eye, peering through the crystalline lens of the scope. The reticule rested on the ground ahead of me -the holographic heads-up display indicating approximately one hundred and fifty metres- and the amassed crowd of rioting civilians ahead. The faint roar of engines permeated the air, leaving it bitter to the breath. All around the crowd, settling in the streets of the war-torn Beijing were armoured vehicles of the Soviet Confederacy of Korea. Troops –be they Caucasian, Hispanic, Asian or African- surrounded the rioters with weapons raised while their tanks steadied their cannons.

Diverting my attention to the building that the delinquent civilians were protesting –the only remaining building untouched by war in all of the once great city- I soon found my designated target. Standing at the edge of a balcony shielded by two inch thick bullet-proof glass approximately ten stories up, he was there. Through the scope I could see him clearly; His crisp black hair slicked back, his golden green uniform pressed neatly and emblazoned on his shoulder with the red star, his arm held behind his back and his thin, gaunt face with its sickly brown eyes as they looked down upon the 'scum' below.

The last military leader of the Confederacy; if not the only leader the ragtag group of nations had left.

I grit my teeth as I continued to look upon him, only diverting when I felt my finger start itching for the trigger. My focus shifted to the room he resided; a rather posh room inhabited with many meaningless trinket and expensive artworks. I sneered in disgust as my eyes flitted between the polished oak desk with matching book-cases to the fine golden artefacts littering the room of the communist generals quarters; _Tch, 'communist'. _I could easily count five guards standing watch in the generals abode, something I could quickly dismiss. Nonetheless, I tapped on the bud in my ear, opening the channel to my partner.

"Five hostiles excluding target in the room. More are likely outside," the warning came out as a bare whisper, spoken under my breath so lightly even I questioned whether the words actually came out.

"Affirmative on that; two guards just outside the door. I can see the five clearly now. Better call in the extraction now, 'cause shit's about to hit the fan," I couldn't help but let a small smirk flit across my face and roll my eyes as I heard his shit eating grin through the comm-bead. _Typical_.

Taking his advice into account, I reached onto the satchel attached to my back by the belt, retrieving a small, hand-held two-way radio from the dusty canvas sack. Bringing the dust-ridden speaker to my lips and activating it, I whispered into the small grid as I had a hundred times before.

"This is Major Ishida of the Coalition Special Forces; we are approaching the target now. Standby for extraction," Though it was drilled into me by routine, the English still fell out of my mouth awkwardly.

After releasing the trigger a brief moment of static sounded before a familiar click sounded, followed by the deep voice of the communications officer, "Copy that Major. We are on standby and ready to extract at a moment's notice,"

Replacing the radio to my satchel, I refocused my vision on the target just in time to see a small metallic cylinder fall in front of the first guard. The soldiers all began closing around the cylinder, weapons at the ready as they cautiously examined it. Half a second later, and the room was full of blinding light and what I could safely assume was a deafening shriek that would give all the man ringing ears. As the men stumbled around, clawing at their ears and eyes in a futile attempt to regain their senses, a tall, strong, lithe body fell from the vents, wearing a contrasting urban olive camouflage that conflicted with his spiked orange hair far too much. Not giving the men a second to recuperate, the orange-haired figure of my partner slipped between hostiles, sending well-placed jabs into the enemy bodies and knocking his foes unconscious with only the necessary force. As the fourth figure fell, the last remaining enemy regained some of his senses, drawing the small sword at his side and taking random slices at the orange haired assailant. He, in turn, ducked and dodged out of the way of the wild swings before ducking down and withdrawing a combat knife from his boot, holding it reverse grip. The soldier, in his blinded state, continued to swing wildly, only this time to be blocked by the 6 inch knife. When the onslaught of rabid blows let up, my orange haired compatriot ducked behind the enemy, bringing his knife up in a swift slash, severing the muscles and tendons in the right armpit, before dragging it up and tearing the ones on the shoulder as well. The soldier let out what I could only guess was a pained scream as he dropped the weapon he'd been clumsily wielding before my partner sent a kick into the back of the soldiers knee, toppling the man over.

Our target seemed to be recuperating from the loss of his senses now, as he reached to his side and whipped out his pistol. It was all for nought, though, as my partner was already at his side, slamming his fist into the side of the man's head, knocking him out. The orange haired assailant caught the body before it fell, catching the sidearm in his free hand. It was at that moment that the doors flung open and a squad of men filed into the room, SMG's aimed at my partner. Taking that as my signal, I took careful aim at the bullet proof glass shielding them all from me. I pulled back the hammer, and switched off the safety. Without another moments warning, I squeezed the trigger. The recoil rippled through my shoulder and I clenched my eyes shut as the entire gun shuddered, soon followed by a loud crack reverberating through the air. I quickly opened my eyes and repositioned the reticule onto the previous target, taking note with satisfaction as I saw the flashing end of a dart clinging precariously to the smooth, bullet-proof glass. I counted down in my head from three, smug satisfaction flitting through my system

3.

2.

1.

As my mind reached zero, a massive explosion rippled through the air. Plumes of flame spat forth from the screen of glass, followed not long after by shards of the broken screen. I jumped to my feet and retrieved my rifle before slinging it over my shoulder. I approached the edge of the broken building I'd been laying on, easily spotting another broken rooftop. Taking a quick look up, I spotted the body of my partner as he inched towards the edge, pistol pressed to the head of our target. As he jumped from the edge, I followed his example, taking a runner before jumping over the gap between buildings and landing on my feet on the other side, taking off with a sprint. I hopped between the wreckage, carefully landing on every available platform with practised ease.

Retrieving my radio, I quickly opened the channel once more. "Calling for immediate extraction; meet at the designated LZ,"

I watched as the two bodies plummeted from the building before landing on a connecting bridge only three stories below. He rolled on his shoulder before coming back to his feet, target still on his other shoulder. I hopped between the wreckage, carefully landing on every available platform with practised ease , I retrieved my radio, I quickly opened the channel once more. "Major Ishida calling for immediate extraction; meet at the designated LZ. " I could now see the soldiers from the room sticking their heads out of the broken glass, SMG's pointed at my partners back. As I hopped onto the remains of the building that the bridge connected to, I could still see Ichigo half limping, half sprinting towards me. The soldiers above started to fire down on him, so I took to a crouch and brought my rifle up, quickly switching magazines. I pulled the hammer back before letting off three rounds, each colliding with the soldiers. I watched with distaste as their souls were rapidly ejected from their bodies, left standing and gawking at their malformed corpses and their comrade's odd, translucent appearance. When bullets began to ricochet along the overpass bridge with force –no doubt a mounted machine gun- I repositioned myself to lean over the edge. When the first gunner came into view, a pulled the trigger and watched as his body slumped over his mounted weapon as his soul was ejected through the armoured hull of the tank. I took the three remaining shots in my clip at any other visible gunner, much to the same effect.

When my partner finally reached me, I moved out of the small opening and started to cover his flank as we moved to the opposing side of the building. He had already loaded a zip cable into a launcher as we reached an opening, which he fired into a wall seven stories below. Attaching our hostage to his back with one of the many straps adorning his combat suit, we gripped the cable and leapt from the building, neglecting procedure. By the time we got half way, my gloves were starting to get uncomfortably hot as the metal cable rushed through them. Our bodies slammed into the wall, and we took a two story fall to the ground. I heard my partner gasp as he landed on his leg, no doubt already twisted from his fall before. Nevertheless, he straightened himself up, still holding onto his hostage as though the world depended on it; which, I suppose, it did. The two of us started moving down the narrow alley ways towards our designated LZ, avoiding all of the rubble and debris that lay strewn across the alley. As he started to lag behind a little, I couldn't help but to turn to him, devious smirk on my otherwise matured face.

"What's wrong Kurosaki? Don't tell me you're going to die from that itty-bitty fall,"

When he glared at me in full force, I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yeah, well, I'd like to see how well you fair jumping three stories with a guy on your shoulder. You're lucky I'm not seriously injured!" He quipped back, leaving me with a malicious smile on my face.

"So all it takes to beat the hero of the Winter War is to fall three stories? Wow, goes to show how weak you Shinigami really are," When I glanced back I could see his scowl in full swing. Deciding to add insult to injury, I quickly added on, "And besides, I wouldn't ever need to worry about the fall; Hirenhyaku, remember?"

Even though I was maybe ten metres ahead, I could still hear him muttering about 'stupid Quincy,' something that didn't fail to amuse me.

We ducked out of the alley way and onto the broken streets. Ichigo pointed ahead, pointing out our ride back home; or rather, the ride for our hostage. A middle-aged Caucasian with auburn hair and a goatee dressed in camo slacks emblazoned with the knife and wings of the British SAS as well as the crossed sword and rifle of the Coalition Special forces sat still on what was clearly a hijacked motorcycle. As we approached him, hostage in our hands, he waved us down.

"Your LZ has been changed, it's too hot here for a full extraction. The chopper will pick you up from the remains of the Marriot Hotel," he paused to toss us a GPS, then nodded over to the passenger, "Orders are for me to take him out of the city. You two are to find the SAM codes in the Chuanban Police Station for us to begin our assault,"

I nodded in understanding, noticing from the corner of my eye as Ichigo did the same. Not a few minutes later and the hostage was strapped to the back of the former SAS soldier. I switched out my rifle from his assault rifle, and after a few more moments chatter, he bid us good luck and drove off. Ichigo and I then began our small hike over to the police station.

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February 3rd 2025 CE, Coalition Headquarters, Formerly China**  
**Major Uryuu Ishida, Coalition Special Forces

I rested my head back into the seat, letting out a breath of I hadn't known I'd been holding. The sound of whirring and chopper blades filled the confined air of the transport as we rested comfortably. I watched as Ichigo relaxed into his seat for the first time in nine years, a peaceful expression gracing his features. I closed my eyes in contentment, trying not to let the tears of joy spill from my eyes. When I heard the near muted sound of Ichigo's chuckling, I cracked one eye open, only to see his face splitting from ear to ear in a grin.

"It's over," He whispered, not nearly loud enough to hear over the roar of the engine, though the message got through to me. I grinned in turn, shutting my eyes, reliving the message that had just played through our speakers moments ago.

'_Today, General Choi Dae Hyun has officially signed the documents to the Soviet Confederacy of Korea's unconditional surrender to Coalition forces, ending the ten year World War that cost the lives of nearly one and a half billion people. The order has been sent out for all Confederate forces to immediately disband and hand over their weapons to the Coalition.'_

"Yes. Yes it is,"

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April 22nd 2025 CE, Karakura, Japan**  
**Yuzu Kurosaki-Edwards

I stood on the train, idly fiddling with the hem of my dress with my left hand, while I carried my newborn in my right. I could vaguely feel it as the baby toyed with my light brown hair, but I couldn't bring myself to take my eyes from the door. People shuffled beside me, all packed into the tight space, but I couldn't bring myself to care when the shoved me too hard. I just wanted to get _home_. Suddenly, I felt a hand slip into mine, breaking my trance slightly. Looking to my side, I saw the gentle face of my husband staring back at me with those big, golden eyes, reassuring me. "It'll be alright, honey. We'll be there soon,"

I couldn't help but smile back at him, letting my gaze fall once again over his short cropped blonde hair, the gentle contours of his well-defined features, before letting my gaze drop all together and fall onto my child who would not desist in his hair pulling. I felt another presence grow closer, and could already tell who it was even before she rested a hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah, Yuzu; It's going to be fine," Turning up to face my sister, I couldn't help but give a little pout.

"I know, it's just been so long since we've been home. I haven't been able to send dad or brother a letter since the wedding. I don't know how they're doing at all!" I whined slightly, gaining a cocked eyebrow from the Karin. Even now, it surprised me how much she had changed, physically at least. Her body had gained its feminine curves, not without much complaining on her behalf, and her face lost all traces of childhood, leaving behind a near exact replica of their mothers. All that was out of place was the shorter black hair. But when I thought about it, perhaps the same could be said for me, with exception to the short black hair of course.

"Yeah, well, you don't really expect the best mail service possible when you live in a refugee camp in the middle of the Australian DMZ while World War Three is going on," Karin commented offhandedly, receiving a light glower from me. I was about to quip back, but was cut off from any witty comeback as the loudspeakers blared to life, informing us of our arrival at Karakura station. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach begin to go crazy with anticipation as the train slowed to a stop and the doors opened. I was a little disappointed and more than a little worried when I didn't see brother or father standing at the doorway, grins on their faces as they greeted us. Karin must have noticed my concern, because she turned to me with her ever neutral expression in place.

"We should go collect our luggage. They'll be waiting for us at the baggage handout,"

Nodding, the four of us headed out of the train and onto the recently patch up terminal of the train line. Even despite being indoors, the holes from the bombs gave me a glimpse outside, and what I saw filled me with dread. War torn buildings was the first thing I saw, and anxiety started to flit through my body once more. Regardless, I carried on.

We eventually reached the baggage handout, where soldiers from every race and creed worked to distribute the luggage to its rightful owner. When I couldn't see father and brother in the crowd of people, panic started to settle in. My husband took that moment to take my hand once more, giving it a squeeze. I could feel my breathing start to shallow and my heart beat pick up. Karin offered to take what little luggage we had, a suit case each, but my husband took one of the cases, just to be helpful. I was starting to feel a little light headed as we began to walk out of the terminal building. My eyes continued to dart from one direction to another, not finding either of my male family members anywhere despite the masses of people welcoming home their families.

Hope was starting to fade as we approached the doors, and I could feel tears welling in my eyes. Even Karin was starting to waver slightly. My husband opened the door for me, and I let my eyes drop to the floor, tears now spilling out. I felt my knees turn to jelly, and if it weren't for the supportive arm of my husband I was sure I was going to collapse. But that was when I felt it; A tiny niggling for me to look up. Almost disobeying the intuition in fear of shattering my hopes, I eventually conceded to the feeling.

Father didn't look a day older; he hadn't changed at all. Still the scruffy goat-chin with his face splitting grin. But Ichi; Ichi was different, so very different I nearly mistook him for someone else. His handsome face as a teenager had only become more defined. His hair was longer, almost down to his shoulders. His body was extremely well-toned, and stood even taller and broader than when he was a child. And his face no longer held a perpetual scowl, now only a slight smile adorned his features. Along the length of his arms were nasty and jagged scars that made me internally cringe, but the alarms bells really went off when I noticed the cast wrapped around his right leg, something I should have noticed earlier due to the crutches holding him up. Not seeming to notice my concern, he raised one hand and gave something between a salute and wave.

"Yo,"

It was so simple, but it just broke everyone from their shock. Karin dropped her bags and dashed towards her brother and father, soon followed by myself –though I made sure not to drop what I was carrying- and we embraced after nine years of separation. Tears flooded my eyes as I gave the two as big a hug I could manage. When we finally all separated, I gave Ichi a light-hearted slap across his right arm, receiving a look of shock from him.

Giving him a disapproving frown, I pointed to his leg, "What have you done now?" I queried, trying to sound angrier than I was.

He chuckled lightly, before brushing off my concern. "Don't worry. I just broke my leg in Beijing. It'll get better in a few weeks,"

I tried to continue to frown, but couldn't help the smile that eventually took over. I flung my arms around my brother once more, just happy to see him alive after all that has happened. When we finally broke free from our hug, I noticed my Husband was standing next to me bowing deeply towards my male family members, despite his difference in culture. As he straightened out, he held out his hand and spoke in the best Japanese he could, though it was still poor enough to make me giggle.

"I am honoured to make your acquaintance Doctor Kurosaki and Captain Kurosaki. I am Alexander Edwards, husband of your lovely daughter and sister, Yuzu,"

As expected dad flung himself onto Alex with his usual exuberance, thanking him for accomplishing what his idiotic son could not –giving him a grandchild, that is- while Ichigo just stood there, his expression somewhere between being completely flabbergasted and glaring. As our newly reunited family made their way to the car in the parking, I felt as if I'd never been happier in my life.

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August 15th 2025 CE, Tokyo, Japan**  
**Major Uryuu Ishida, Coalition Special Forces

I stood on the podium, hands clasped behind my back and leg spread out. My black hair rested tidily on my head, and my uniform was crisp and neat, something of a source of pride. To my side, Ichigo stood at ease as well, his uniform mirroring my own, though his longer hair could do with a tidy up. Several other men and women of the Coalition Special Forces from Japan, including Chad, stood to our sides, holding our heads high as we looked out onto the crowd below. Ichigo seemed a little flustered at the attention that was being divulged to him, though there was no mistaking the pride in his stance or the grin that had captured his face. Soon, Ichigo's name was called out, and he stepped forward awkwardly to receive his medals, crutches clacking on the wooden deck as he moved towards the governing prefect of Japan.

I felt a small trill of amusement and chagrin as his neat and well groomed body juxtaposed the chaotic, broken city in which we stood. However, I quashed these conflicting feelings as I reminded myself that the rebuilding was already far along, with the majority of the remaining population now receiving flowing water and some power, if only a little. My eyes continued to survey the surrounding, and soon found their way to some of the civilian onlookers. It didn't take long for my eyes to settle onto the head of auburn hair that signified mine and Ichigo's long-time friend, Orihime Inoue. I would have marvelled at her elegant beauty or the way in which she now held herself, no longer the clumsy teenager but a full-fledged adult, were it not for the slightest glint that caught my attention. My eyes started to wander the crowd, brushing past the now little bit bigger Kurosaki family, skimming over the heads of all the others crowded in the courtyard, though they could not pick up the elusive glint. Changing tact, I lifted my eyes to the rooftops above the courtyard. They continued to dart over the broken and crumbled buildings until they finally reached their destination.

Realising instantly what was happening, I threw my head to face Ichigo and the Governing Prefect. Ichigo must've noticed as well, as his entire body was tensed. Everything slowed around me as I placed one foot forward, already realising the futility of my actions. There was no way I could get to the duo in time. When I noticed Ichigo begin to shift in his crutches, realisation of his intentions slammed my eyes open. My mind started soaring through the possibilities, each coming to the same conclusion. I felt my throat constrict and a ringing filled my ears as panic settled into my stomach. I took another step forward, but I was too late. Without his full mobility, there was no way that the two were going to come out unharmed; I knew, and judging by his face, so did he. His body smashed into the Prefect with enough force to crack his crutches.

A cracking resounded through the air, leaving everyone in a state of paralysis as the duo's bodies fell to the ground in unceremonious heaps. Blood was sprayed all over the deck, intensifying the gore of the amounting puddle beneath the two. Realising what had happened, all of the soldiers around me began to settle into an much too familiar mind set, securing the perimeter and retrieving weapons. Even as my eyes settled on the bodies below me, and my knees buckled until I was crouching, orders flew from my mouth even without my consent. Pandemonium gripped the crowd as they started their mad dash for the exit, lest the shooter hit someone else.

On my knees, I quickly scrambled through the mass of body parts, detangling Ichigo from the Governor. When the two were finally separated, a wave of dread washed over me as my eyes spotted where the bullet made contact. Blood oozed from the small entry point just above the ribs, leaking in tandem with the owners own heartbeat. I shouted for the governor to get to cover, which he obeyed immediately, leaving me alone with Ichigo on the stage. I tried applying pressure to the wound, only for more blood to seep out. Curses filled my mind as it tried with all my will to stem the flow. Ichigo made a gurgling sound as he hacked up blood, causing the flow from his chest to quicken. I was about to chastise him, but he gently shoved me out of the way, righting himself into a sitting position as he nursed his crippled chest.

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August 16th 2025 CE, Tokyo, Japan**  
**Yuzu Kurosaki-Edwards

"What in all of heaven and earth were you thinking?!"

The loud voice washed out the sounds of beeping from the life support machines. I watched on as brother merely shrugged his shoulders in his bed, the breath mask not even hiding his grin in the slightest as his friend Mr Ishida continued to berate him.

"Booze, cards, how much you owe me; you know, the usual," He replied nonchalantly, though it was difficult to understand through the mask he wore.

Mister Ishida started grounding his teeth, and his fists tightened considerably until the knuckles were white. I was afraid if he tightened them further, he might pop his knuckles out of place.

"I owe you nothing, you arrogant arse," He ground out, receiving a small snicker from brother, father and Karin. "Do you realise the severity of what you have done?"

"Well, considering that most of my heart was turned to mush and I no longer have a left lung, I think I have a fair idea,"

"Shut up, Kurosaki!" this immediately drew the attention of everyone in the room, Mister Yasutora and Miss Inoue moving to Mister Ishida's side to comfort him, "You are going to need a new heart and lung if you have any hope of getting off the life support machi-"

When Ichigo sighed and his stance slouched forward, I knew what was coming. He'd already told us months ago; it had broken my heart. Karin let her head hang down slightly, and I could feel father's body tense behind me.

"I'm dying,"

The entire room lapsed into silence at the conclusion of the simple statement. The three friends of my brother looked upon him with expressions of bemusement. Mister Ishida was the first to break out of the shock, anger filling his features.

"Don't be a melodramatic dick! We'll get you what you need to survive, I'll make sure of it"

"He's right, Mister Kurosaki," Miss Inoue jutted in, her desperation for Mister Ishida's words factuality far less hidden than the man himself. Mister Yasutora grunted in agreement, but his seemed even less convinced. Ichigo gave a sad smile to all of his friends, causing the tears to well up in my eyes. This was when father stepped forward, his grave expression punctuating the atmosphere.

"Ichigo's right. His body has ceased all regenerative functions. I got suspicious when his broken leg wouldn't heal after five months. When I went to Urahara Shoten," I could briefly hear Ichigo mutter something about his disbelief that the place was still standing, "he performed some tests and has confirmed that Ichigo's body is now rejecting his soul,"

Everyone seemed entranced at what father had said, and I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. It was so stupid to be crying about this again, but I couldn't help myself; my brother was going to leave us.

"But…" Mister Ishida seemed to be grasping at strings, trying desperately to refute what was clearly facing him. Ichigo turned his gaze to Ishida, the sad smile just that little bit sadder.

"I've been living on borrowed time since I broke my soul chain. You knew this could have happened anywhere over the past thirteen years. Honestly, I'm surprised it didn't happen in the Korean POW camp," He chuckled, his face twisting in a grin.

Mister Ishida rolled his eyes, before letting his own face take on a grinning visage. "You still owe me for that one,"

Brother started to laugh at that, a cocky smirk dominating his face, "For what? Getting me stuck there or getting me out? Besides, how about that time I saved your ass from dehydration and hypothermia when you got lost in the Gobi?"

The two continued to banter back and forth, Mister Yasutora occasionally interrupting to recollect the actual events and prove the two wrong. Miss Inoue sat at their sides, giggling whenever something she caught on to came up. Dad and Karin had decided to leave, but I just couldn't bring myself to leave my brother in his dying moments. The four spiritually aware humans all recollected their adventures with bittersweet smiles on their faces. Eventually, the banter started to come to a halt as Ichigo found himself starting to doze off. My vision started to blur as the tears came flooding out, and I sat silently sobbing as everyone crowded around his bed.

When Ichigo grabbed onto Mister Ishida's arms, it surprised my slightly. Ichigo sat himself up and looked his black haired friend dead in the eye, "Remember, asshole, if you're not laughing you're crying. If I find out that you haven't been laughing for her," He gestured to Miss Orihime, who blushed slightly at the attention, "Then I'll come back down and drag you up there with me,"

Mister Ishida grinned, assuring brother that it wasn't necessary

Seeming to exhaust all of his remaining energy, he flopped back down onto the bed, a content smile on his face as he shut his eyes. "Oh, and Chad? Look out for Karin for me. Yuzu already has someone to do that for her, but Karin only has the crazy goat-chin, and knowing him he'll encourage her to have more 'grandbabies'," he even raised his hands to form quotations marks, and I gave a small hiccup as my body wanted to both sob and laugh. Brother relaxed back into his seat, smiling weakly as his entire body became slack. The heartbeat monitors ceased, permeating the air with their high pitched wailing. I broke down entirely at that point, no longer trying to hold in my tears. Karin and father entered once more, grief etched into their features. I could see the blurry outline of my brother's spirit as it said its good byes to everyone, and even felt his warm arms wrap around me as he told me goodbye.

I heard mister Ishida call out, "Give 'em hell up there,"

Followed by a faint, almost non-existent, "What else would I be doing?"

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_Captain Ichigo Kurosaki, Coalition Special Forces, renowned for his efforts in the Chinese Campaign, passed away in hospital late last night after receiving a fatal gunshot wound through the chest during the Honours Ceremony in Tokyo. The suspected assassin was apprehended earlier today, and confessed to originally targeting the Prefect of the District of Japan, Seiji Takahashi. Mr Takahashi has decided to give Captain Kurosaki honours for saving his life, posthumously._

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AN: Not much to say here except that I would appreciate any form of support, be it criticism or praise from anybody willing to take the time. I do not know how frequently I will update this story, and I apologize for that, but this was a spur of the moment thing. If it is well received, I will try to continue it as quickly as I can. Elsewise, I bid you adieu, and shall take my leave.


	2. Chapter 2

Night of the 3rd New Moon, Fall, Seireitei

17th Seat Yorizowo Sekozawa, 12th Division

My head rested lazily in my hands as my eyes browsed the monitor ahead of me, taking in what little information the screens thought relevant. Why the hell was I assigned to monitor the _dangai_ again? I'd been here for more time than I could care to think (I suppose it would be bordering on my fifteenth hour without break?) and nothing of any note had entered or left the _dangai_; nothing had entered or left the _dangai_ in nearly a decade! Yet Captain Kurotsuchi insisted on someone monitoring the temporal hell hole; probably still upset about the whole ryoka incident with Kuro-something-or-other and his band of misfits.

My face was creeping ever closer to a resting place next to the monitor when the temperamental machine started to blare out its concern for the entire of Seireitei to hear. I growled in my throat as I shifted my body back up with as much frustration I could openly exert under the ever constant gaze of my sadistic captain; though this mysterious talent to know the goings on at any time seemed to be seriously lacking when it came to somebody doing something right. I read over the screen with as little enthusiasm I could muster, but was vaguely surprised when they settled on the red dot indicative of the presence of reishi within the _dangai_. The growl I'd contained to my throat seeped out now:_ of course_. Curses to the Universe flitted through my head as I cracked my knuckles and began to type. I began to manually override the programming of the Kōtotsu sweeper, ordering it to begin its sweep of the area where the reishi had surfaced. As I hit the enter key, I turned my focus drolly to look at the soon-to-be-perished foreign reishi. The Kōtotsu had begun making its way over to the zone where the anomaly had shown up with its same usual haste –something akin to a runaway train- but that was only a precaution. The Kōryū walls should take care of the problem themselves; it was only a matter of time. The black outlines of the flowing walls on the screen began to make their way forward, grasping desperately at the reishi. I nearly turned to fall back to sleep but the screen started to shriek again.

My fist smacked into the blasted machine in a vain attempt to shut the thing up, but to no avail; though, it did achieve the attention of my comrades in subjugation as they all looked upon me with quizzical glances. Disregarding them, I strained my eyes at the screen, willing them to refocus. My curiosity piqued when the error message came into view.

_Kōryū unresponsive, seek assistance_

My fingers hit the keys running, immediately typing in commands as fast as my hands would allow. Moments later I had a black and white view from the inside of the _dangai_. Cross-coordinating between the map of the reishi, which had just started moving, and the camera, I soon found myself analysing a figure moving through the _dangai _with a complete lack of haste. My head spun when he approached the Kōryū, only for the black, rippling substance to shift and warp around him, allowing him to bypass the network of tunnels. The viscous walls flowed back into place, leaving no trace of the mysterious figure that had been standing there prior. My fingers flew across the keyboards once more, tracking the reishi signature as it passed through the dense layers of time and space. The computer struggled to maintain surveillance with the movement, its processing power tasked to capacity as it fought to keep up with the changing flows of time. Eventually the figure re-emerged from the sickly black substance somewhere deep within the _dangai_. I grinned as I depressed the keys, sending a search and destroy command to the Kōtotsu; finally, something interesting to do.

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Morning after the 3rd New Moon, Fall, Seireitei

Lieutenant Rukia Kuchiki, 13th Division

Kiyone came trundling into the room, her arms laden with paperwork and documents so high they obscured her face from view. I couldn't help the groan that seeped out as my head collided with my desk. _Why?_ I already knew the answer, but that didn't make it any more bearable. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I flipped over the first sheet and began to fill out the document. More requests for reinforcements in the world of the living, another patrol wiped out by the hollows attracted to the millions of souls left wandering the wasteland of post-war earth. My small hands, bound in their silken white gloves, grasped the brush as I gently scribed my name onto the sheets, one after another. The past decade had been a boring tedium of troop coordination, training exercises, and supply requests that had now amounted to a mass of Shinigami that had to make their way _back_ to the Soul Society. I knew for a fact that three quarters of the squad, including the majority of seated officers, were stationed in the world of the living currently; who could say for the other divisions. I cringed at the thought of the paperwork required for the extraction of so many Shinigami.

Tiring of the bureaucratic bullshit I was payed to read, I instead let my mind swim through the depths of thought and fantasy; I had been up since several hours before dawn, a 10 minute break wouldn't hurt after all. I would have recalled what had happened in the past ten years since the end of the end of the Winter War but in actuality _nothing_ had happened since then, excluding the Fullbringer Incident. It was almost as if the Soul Society suddenly went on hold for a decade. No new inventions, runaway experiments, power hungry madmen, coup d'états, not even a single stray hollow in the Rukongai. The most interesting thing to happen in the entirety of the afterlife was an accidental kiss between Captain Hitsugaya and Lieutenant Hinamori, and that was only because the Shinigami Women's Association had blown the entire thing out of proportion. I snickered slightly as I remembered when the smaller captain had come storming through Seireitei, freezing everything in sight with a vengeance, his face redder than Renji's hair. Oh, and the time the SWA did an 'exposé' on Ikkaku's apparent love triangle with Renji and Yumichika; now that was funny while it lasted. I couldn't help feel a little bored at times though; after the thrilling years with Ichigo, I suppose that was bound to happen.

My thoughts turned sour at this point. Ichigo hadn't contacted Soul Society in over a decade. Around the same time, the number of deaths in the human world had escalated dramatically. I'd gone down eight years ago to Karakura to investigate only to find the city in ruins. It wasn't until I found Uryuu that I found out that Earth was now encompassed in a massive war, and Ichigo had signed himself up along with Sado, Tatsuki, Chizuru, Keigo and Mizuiro to serve in the Japanese Self Defence Force while Karin and Yuzu had been sent to Australia to wait out the war. After Uryuu had explained what 'Australia' was, much to his amusement and my chagrin, I was forced to return to Soul Society to report my findings to a bemused council of captains. It wasn't long after that when Uryuu had gone off to join the Self Defence Force as well. Then the only one of our original group that I was still in contact with was Orihime, who tried her best to provide information on the whereabouts of all of the others, though with little success. Eventually she just gave up and we spent most of our time musing, gossiping, and just generally talking about the others.

I shook my head in a vain gesture of refocus, turning instead to the pile of paperwork. I sifted through the tower, looking for something not from earth. I eventually found myself looking at a report from the Rukongai, District 80 South, filled in by a medical examiner

_Riots have taken place in the 80th district, South of Seireitei. Four Shinigami officials of the Thirteenth Division were attacked on sight with makeshift weapons. One Shinigami was taken down at range and has suffered severe internal damage as the projectile entered and expanded within chest cavity. Reports from the surgeons show no projectile fragments remain, but confirm the use of poison that breaks down cartilage and blocks arteries. Possibility of a Soul with high reiatsu likely. Wound does not provide any evidence as to what species the wielder is. Wounded Shinigami retreated immediately to a safer location after attack before returning to Seireitei seeking assistance._

_Casualties consist of three wounded, one in critical condition. _

_Sidenote: Prior to riots, Shinigami officials observed what appeared to be a donkey or transposed on a hammer and sickle painted in red all over the buildings or District 80, South according to the wounded officers. The near-dead officer had this emblem carved into her forehead with a crude instrument. Significance of the marking is unknown._

_Suggest sending further teams to investigate and restore order in the district._

I reread the document a few times, making sure that I had read the report properly. When it finally clicked, the one thought running through my mind like a crazed doomsayer was '_what the hell_'; riots in the Rukongai? As far as I was aware, that hadn't happened in over a millennia.

Any further thoughts on the matter were broken when I heard a knock from the door to my office.

"Lieutenant Kuchiki? Someone from the twelfth division has requested to see you,"

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Morning after the 3rd New Moon, Fall, Deep within the _Dangai_

_Kotone Ito, Unseated, 13th Division_

A shiver found itself inexplicably crawling up my spine as the cold, dank air nestled into my bones. Shifting walls of black sludge wrestled with the small corridor in which we marched, trying desperately to reach out and take us. Only the clacking of our sandals and the flitter of our Jigokuchō's wings filled the air, the noise disturbing the stillness before finding itself trapped by the viscous fluid that oozed from the walls. I desperately followed the light ahead of me, held up by the leader of this expedition; the only source of light ahead or behind us. My hand grasped tightly around the hilt of my zanpakutou, the hilt only vaguely registering in my numb hand. To my side marched Lieutenant Kuchiki, all grace and poise as her longer black hair flowed down to her back, complimenting the pure white gloves that stretched up her arms. Her posture was far more relaxed than my own, her face set to neutrality, juxtaposed to my own which undoubtedly showed my unease. She exuded a quiet confidence, a familiarity with danger as she danced with it to the quiet melody only she could hear. I'd seen her back on earth when a squadron of Adjuchas class hollow had come prowling for souls; it was unfortunate they chose her patrol zone for their hunting ground. The battle had been nothing short of spectacular, her grace only matched by her lethality; something to be strived for.

Just behind me was the rather tall figure of the Twelfth Division 17th seat, Yorizowo Sekozawa, the reason I was in this wretched place to begin with. He was very well built, with impressive musculature and height, with black eyes that rivalled the pitch black of the _dangai_. He would have been an attractive man, were it not for the results of hideous experimentation visible on his body. His smooth, shaved head sported nubs where antennae sprouted while his hand showed signs of extensive surgery, no doubt the reason for his long fingers. He didn't exude the same confidence as Lieutenant Kuchiki, though his curiosity was more than obvious. His hands wrapped themselves around a small device that gave his face a sickly complexion as he looked down on it in the dim light. His eyes darted between the device and the surroundings, his fingers occasionally extending themselves and typing into the device. He had been talking for a good twenty minutes now, receiving a response from Lieutenant Kuchiki alone while I and my fellow squad mates –four others in total- all ignored him in favour of navigating the dark trenches of the _dangai_. It wasn't until Lieutenant Kuchiki spoke up that I began to pay attention

"How is it that someone –or something- can manipulate the Kōryū and evade the Kōtotsu? I thought that they were under the direct control of the twelfth division?" Lieutenant Kuchiki's unwavering voice seemed to punctuate the air, giving rigidity to the fluid environment. Yorizowo nodded in agreement, not removing his gaze from the small device.

"That is what most think. In actuality, the _dangai_ was created long ago, acting as a penal colony for unfortunate souls. The Kōryū and Kōtotsu were both created as a defence against escapees and unwanted intruders. From how Captain Kurotsuchi explained it, it seems the two are governed by a synthetically created intelligence, which is why we are able to manipulate it," He explained, receiving a small nod of understanding from the Lieutenant.

"So what you're suggesting is that this foreign source of reishi seems to possess the ability to manipulate the _dangai_ to their will?" She queried, receiving a half nod from the man.

"Well, that is one possibility, though it doesn't explain why the _dangai_ is completely rejecting our commands now,"

"And what is the other?"

The man now looked up from his device now, looking directly at Lieutenant Kuchiki. "The Synthetic Intelligence has developed self-awareness and is allowing the foreign reishi to pass through it out of familiarity,"

I felt a gasp catch in my throat, the claustrophobia I'd been feeling prior amplifying greatly. If the walls had a mind of their own, they could go rogue at any moment. Everyone else's bodies tensed as well as his words hung in the stale air. Everyone except Lieutenant Kuchiki, who's mask was unfaltering.

"So why was it that you needed a squad of combat ready Shinigami and a Lieutenant-level Shinigami?"

The man moved his attention back to the device, clenching his jaw inaudibly as he worked the small contraption. "I have been monitoring this foreign reishi for nearly five hours now. Due to the temporal density of the _dangai_, the reiatsu signature has been twisted and warped beyond recognition. When I brought this up with Captain Kurotsuchi, Lieutenant Kurotsuchi determined that the foreign substance may be hostile, and that it possesses enough reiatsu to challenge a third seat or higher."

Lieutenant Kuchiki nodded in understanding, striding ahead with unfaltering precision. I mulled over what the man had just said in my head, a nervous tingling in my head trying to alert me to something. It wasn't until a few seconds later that realisation dawned on me.

"Wait, you said it's been in here for five hours. Isn't that, like-"

"Approximately thirteen months," Lieutenant Kuchiki and Sekozawa said in unison, causing my eyes to widen considerably. A grim expression found its way onto Lieutenant Kuchiki's face as she said this, her violet eyes flashing towards me. "There are only two reasons why something would hide in here for thirteen months. To either die or become more powerful, and judging by the fact it is still here, I would suggest the latter,"

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Morning after the 3rd New Moon, Fall, Deep within the _Dangai_

_Kotone Ito, Unseated, 13th Division_

We'd been marching deeper into the caverns of the _dangai_ now for what felt like hours. The anxiety I had been harbouring in my stomach earlier had evolved into a full blown fear that was trying to claw its way out. The endless, shifting walls only worked to set my nerves on edge while we trespassed further into a domain that seemed repulsed by our presence. They knew why we were here, and they were not pleased at our arrogance. They quivered in anger, becoming more restless and tumultuous as the seconds ticked by. I could feel ice forming around my mouth as any source of heat was lost to the angered _dangai_. Yet, we continued forward.

I tried hard to relinquish the jitters that wracked my body, though meeting with the same success as my other squad members; none at all. Lieutenant Kuchiki and Sekozawa remained rigid as they marched with us, seemingly unaffected by the biting cold, much to my great envy; probably another experiment from Captain Kurotsuchi, but that didn't explain why Lieutenant Kuchiki was so nonchalant about the cold, though I suspected it was due to her Zanpakutou.

When Sekozawa started to tremble in what I could only guess was glee, the fear clawing up my throat threatened to spill out. He pointed directly ahead, his face contorted into a malevolent grin.

"The reishi is just ahead," His voice was quivering in excitement, something that immediately seeded the desire to strangle the man within me. We all withdrew our zanpakutou and took on combat-ready stances. We all moved forward slowly, inching towards the reishi signature that had lurked within this hell-hole for a year. The device he held gave a high pitched beep, nearly scaring me out of my skin. I hissed at him, though if he cared he gave no indication. The device continued to beep faster as we moved forward, my heart now in sync with the screeching device. I cursed under my breath, my hands shaking.

When we got within fifty metres of where the device said the reishi was, an intense heat washed over me, scalding my skin and melting my frozen joints. The air felt inexorably heavier, knocking my breath out. After I recovered from the sudden increase in pressure, I couldn't help but feel ashamed at the fact that the reiatsu was only dormant, not even a malicious entity raising its pressure to showcase his power; a sleeping entity with their reiatsu raised to beyond what I could comprehend. The only saving grace was that even Lieutenant Kuchiki seemed fazed by the sudden change as well.

That was when the figure came into view, lit by the small lantern clasped in the hands of our foremost squad member. To the eye, it seemed like a normal Shinigami at first glance. He was meditating, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the corridor. Only a part of his shihakushō was visible, the rest was obscured by the flow of black energy encompassing his body. As soon as the light from our lantern hit the flow of energy, the light fragmented, forming thin tendrils of pure light that mixed with the cascade of shadow in an elegant dance of light and dark. The figure's head was covered by a thick black cowl that shielded any features from view. Lieutenant Kuchiki's eyes widened as she let them fall onto the figure, causing panic to rush through my system.

Not seeming able to contain their fight or flight instinct, one of my squad mates charged at the figure, Zanpakutou raised overhead. The rest of us, Lieutenant Kuchiki included, screamed our warnings and orders to stop to the lone squad member, though these fell on deaf ears as he continued to charge.

I felt my heart stop as the mysterious figure's head snapped up just as my squad member swung his weapon down. Reacting instantly, the figure was on his feet in an instant, knocking the katana from my partners hand with a backhanded swipe at his hand. The black energy retreated to his form, coiling itself up his legs and entangling itself on his arm. As the weapon fell from my squad mate, the figures other hand was already soaring into the shingami's chest, palm outstretched. My comrade's body came soaring back towards us, narrowly missing our entire crew. The figure looked down onto his hand with what I guessed was surprise, then to us with equally dumbfounded. I nearly dropped my weapon as I looked upon the figures appearance, no longer hidden by the flowing energy.

Segmented shoulder pauldrons made of wicked and gnarled bone rested on the figures shoulders, the many components sliding back and forth with ease as the figure moved his shoulders, joining with plates of the bone armour that nestled themselves along his collar bone and up his neck. The hilt of a short sword was visible from his left pauldron, the black wrapping contrasting with the white armour. His kosode was opened enough at the front to reveal his bare chest, with his wickedly sensual abdominals visible. The left sleeve of his kosode were tucked into a pure white vambrace, the only decoration on the armour being a five pointed star bound by a circle carved into the gauntlet. His right sleeve sat at the elbow, exposing a black chain tattooed onto the pale flesh of his forearm, wrapping tightly around the limb. At his hip, a long black katana with black and red stitching on the hilt sat unsheathed, held only by a small, red leather band attached to his obi. His hakama was torn at the front, revealing a muscular right leg bound in a white bone greave. Despite the imminent danger he presented, it was hard to deny the allure that he seemed to exude. His face was still hidden from view by the black cowl, much to my disappointment and intense relief.

My body stood rigid, unable to move as two more of my squad members lost their composure and tried to charge the figure. Lieutenant Kuchiki managed to grab one of them, but was too far away to catch the other. The figure, with the same lightning fast speed, spread his hands outwards, causing the previously coiled black energy to rush forward, stealing all light away from us. When I finally came to realise what had happened, the lantern we'd been using was extinguished, lying dead on the floor next to our unconscious comrade, while the rest of us were enveloped in darkness.

I couldn't see anything at all, though I could at least feel the comforting reiatsu of our lieutenant. What worried me was that the heat and pressure of the entities reiatsu had completely vanished, leaving the frigid air to assault my body. I finally let my body succumb to the panic. My legs failed beneath me, causing me to drop to the cold, hard, wet floor in the pitch black. My body heaved as I sobbed out of pure fear. I could hear the footsteps of my comrades around me, and the hum of that wretched device from the twelfth division. Lieutenant Kuchiki came up to me, crouching on the ground next to me, trying to comfort me. I knew this was no way to react, especially for a formally trained Shinigami, but I just could not help the despair that overwhelmed my system.

"Where is he?" I heard her ask, undoubtedly to Sekozawa.

"I- I don't know. He's completely vanished! Like he never existed in the first place!" He cried out, the shock more than evident in his voice to me despite the sobs wracking my body.

I felt a searing hot presence fly past me. Sekozawa suddenly let out a cry of pain, causing me to snap my eyes open and reaffirm my grip on my zanpakutou. The dark tunnel suddenly lit up, revealing the twelfth division officer with a plain silver blade pressed to his neck and his arms bound behind his back. The mysterious figure was visible from behind the officer, cowl still shielding his face while his body was lit with strands of light.

"Why did you attack me?" He queried, his voice showing no hints of malicious intent or accusation. Lieutenant Kuchiki stood forward now, moving into his arc of light.

"Ichigo?" She asked, causing the figure to relax considerably.

"Rukia…" His voice was remarkably soft as he lowered his weapon, letting Sekozawa go.

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Morning after the 3rd New Moon, Fall, Deep within the _Dangai_

_Kotone Ito, Unseated, 13th Division_

So, as it turned out, the mysterious figure we'd assumed to be hostile was actually the Substitute Shinigami, Ichigo Kurosaki. And boy, if I'd thought his body was hot, his face was enough to make me quiver at the knees. His long, orange hair matched with his very masculine, very handsome facial features while his almond eyes caused warmth to pool in my stomach as I looked at them. Though, that could be the relief in my system as I noticed that the Kōryū was no longer lashing out at us.

We'd been travelling to the nearest temporal rift in order to open a senkaimon for the past half hour, and since that time Kurosaki and Lieutenant Kuchiki had not stopped bickering once, though it was obvious to the eye that they were enjoying themselves. Lieutenant Kuchiki had this gleam in her eye as she and Kurosaki bantered, and the small smile on her face was a clear indication of her glee. From what I could pick up, this was the first time in a decade that the two had talked, though they seemed to fit back into their role of antagonising the other with effortless ease. Apparently Ichigo had taken part in one of the wars in the world of the living, but died just last night because his body rejected his soul, or something along those lines. In all honesty, I was finding it difficult to concentrate on the road ahead as every time Ichigo asked a question, he flashed me this flirty little smile that fried my brain; I'm pretty sure it was for me, and not just the smile that had been on the man's face since he'd revealed himself. How Lieutenant Kuchiki wasn't affected by this man, I don't know.

Finally, we approached the rift. Sekozawa tapped on his device a few more times. A few second later, and the black, shifting wall formed into the familiar paper doors of the senkaimon. Everyone looked relieved to finally be able to leave, though Kurosaki was definitely the least. The first through the senkaimon was our unconscious comrade slung over the shoulder of the Shinigami who tried to attack Kurosaki a second time. Next was Sekozawa, who was just a little disappointed about the whole expedition, along with another squad member. I allowed Lieutenant Kuchiki to exit next, Kurosaki at her flank, before entering the portal with the last remaining squad member.

As I emerged from the _dangai_, I was overwhelmed when I saw lines upon lines of soldiers. Hundreds of soldiers gathered at the senkaimon, clad in shihakushō with the symbol of the Central 46 emblazoned on their right arms, long pikes in their hands stretching up to the sky. The expedition team all looked at the gathered soldiers with confusion spread across their faces. The only one who did not seem surprised was Kurosaki, who bowed his head as he took a step forward. Two soldiers stepped forward, obviously of a higher rank than the rest, their expressions grim.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, you are hereby under arrest by order of the Central 46, on account of High Treason against the state,"

My eyes widened, looking over the men's face for any sign of jest but finding none. Kurosaki merely nodded to the two, dropped to his knees in a bow and held out his wrists. The soldiers bound his wrists with rope, and he stood up, following the soldiers respectfully. He turned back to face the group, smile on his face.

"Don't worry, Rukia; I'll be fine for now,"

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_A/N: Sorry about this chapter, guys. It is one of those awkward chapters where nothing really happens and nothing is revealed. It is just to bridge one part of the story with another. Sorry if it seems poorly written, there was just not enough substance here to really enthuse the deeper, intellectual parts of my mind; if they even exist, that is! If I could have avoided the need to have this bridging chapter, I would, but alas I have not yet mastered the ways of telepathic communication as of yet, and I felt this needed a little more explanation than just a sidenote at the top. With the next chapter, there will be: an explanation for Ichigo's arrest, a cunning plan, plenty of nobility, a near riot amongst the captaincy, more about the mysterious red mule, an uneasy alliance, and preferably less viewpoints from random strangers. Yay, less randoms!_

_Just a note on that; I know it is a little awkward to be reading from other peoples perspectives. You see, I got bored one day, and thought, 'why don't I write a story?' which I immediately dismissed. Then I thought to myself, 'why don't I write a story from first person?' which, again, I dismissed. Finally, I thought to myself 'why don't I write a story from first person, without ever using the perspective of the main character,' to which I promptly told my brain to shut up its idiotic ramblings. Eventually, I gave in, and this story is the child of that idea. _

_Well, I hope that this wasn't too much of a strain to read. I cordially thank you for your support of this story, and hope that you shall continue to show your support. _


	3. Chapter 3

_Now, as I am sure that some of you are aware, this was posted on another of my profiles a while back. Don't ask me why I have two profiles. Now, I took this story down for a few reasons:_

_1: I don't actually like Bleach that much. I mostly watched it for my friend's sake, who both wanted some anime to talk about other than Code Geass or Darker than Black. As such, I found it difficult to continue writing for the characters; thus, why I changed them a little….. made them a tad more interesting in my opinion. PTSD adds depth, I swear!_

_2: I sport a rather fashionable, highly classy short attention span; on sale for $5.99AUD at a local personality defect store near you! Not just that, but if you buy one now, we'll even include a full-fledged case of egotism, absolutely free!_

_3: I started Grade 12 here in good ol' oz. Now, it hasn't stopped me from writing, it just has me writing less._

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The Maggots Nest, 4 days after imprisonment

Lord Byakuya Kuchiki, Captain of the Sixth, Head of Kuchiki Clan

I gently strode down the stone hall leading me deeper into the earth, my custom gold-laced haori whipping at my feet as the damp air brushed past my forever rigid form. A guard stood ahead of me, holding a flickering lantern as it desperately staved off the bitter, drenching darkness which inhabited these wicked grounds. Our silhouettes flitted along the walls, ghosting our movements in a warped and intricate dance as the flames of the lantern flickered. Our steps were the only sounds to break the silence of the moist, still air, our feet generating sharp, biting slaps as the hit the stone floor, only for it to muffle and hollow as time dragged on. Eventually, our path came to a door manned by two of the Onmitsukido, their bodies bound in tight fitting black shōzoku while their arms rested tightly behind their backs. An unspoken message punctuated the air as we approached, to which the guards took heed of immediately, working to open the bolted door before we arrived.

As I moved on through the heavy metal bulkheads, I was greeted to a large expanse, formed into a well-lit pseudo-courtyard carved into the depths. The rock face made up the walls, and the heavy overhanging stone roof hung laden with long stalactites formed by years of deposition. Long ramps ran along the walls reaching to the very top of the cavern, granting access to the many makeshift cells chiseled into the earth. Men and women milled about aimlessly, partaking in any and all activities to ease their minds of the long and desperate time they were to serve in this isolated asylum. I could spot members of the Onmitsukido as they stood on vigil, eyes roaming the enclosed expanse of the Maggots Nest.

I halted in my steps, my guardian from the second division following suit a split second later, turning to me in query. I respectfully bowed my thanks to the man, before righting myself to my prior rigidity. "My thanks for your escort, but it is no longer of necessity. If you would be so kind as to direct me to the solitary confinement wing, I would be grateful,"

The guard looked hesitant at my request, though that was only hypothesis formed from his lack of any form of response for a few seconds. The elongated pause was broken not moments later as the guard gave me a strongly disapproving glare. "It is operating procedure to escort very important persons such as yourself whenever they may enter the Maggots Nest. There is no telling what could happen were these psychopaths to attack you, milord,"

Despite his explanation I held up my hand in order to silence him. "I am a Captain of the Gotei 13 and one of the top combatants in the Seireitei at the current moment. I reiterate, you are no longer required here; I am more than capable of defending myself from any and all attacks that may come. Please tell me how to get to the solitary confinement wing, and then return to your former post,"

The man was undoubtedly fuming now; that much was obvious from behind his mask, though he did well to not vent towards me. His jaw was clenched, the muscles tightly bound under their black cloth covering. His fists were clenched and his previously relaxed body, ready for an attack at any moment, was taut; likely a reaction to wounded pride. He directed me through ground teeth, and I again courteously thanked him. His body remained tense as he quickly made his way back the way we came.

I strode forward, disregarding the deranged inspection of those deemed too dangerous to their fellow Shinigami to be allowed amongst their peers. My left hand idly hung in the air, grasping at the space where Senbonzakura should have been sitting were it not for the second division temporarily confiscating it for the duration of my visit. I moved swiftly through the stone prison, deftly avoiding the grasp of any of the criminals.

Eventually I found myself at the entrance of another dingy cave. I could hear feminine giggling emanating from deep within the tunnel. I furrowed my brow in confusion, but ignoring it, I moving down the small ramp and into the Solitary Confinement wing. Unlike the courtyard I'd just come from, the darkness had claimed this place. The air felt oppressive as its cool touch assaulted the exposed skin on my hands and face. Cells lined the wall with uniformity, glass allowing clear view of the many inhabitants as they sat in solitude. Some rocked back and forth; others held distant gazes as their mind drifted to other places. Madness had consumed this place as clearly as the darkness had. Once again I was thrust into an abyss where no sound escaped; the only thing audible was the clapping of my feet against the stone and the occasional, highly misplaced giggling.

At this point, I found myself highly curious as to where the giggling was originating. How something so happy-go-lucky could be coming from such a depressing place is something of intrigue. As I walked on further, my eyes soon made out the form of another of the Onmitsukido, dressed in standard shōzoku. I carefully watched her –I assumed at the least- as she stood out the front of a singular cell, giggling profoundly and seeming not to notice me drawing closer. When I was within ten meters of the figure, I could clearly make out the well-proportioned, curvaceous body that easily identified a slim woman. But outside of that, I could see inside the cell; I could see a well groomed room, with its bed neatly done up, the floor clear of any debris, and the food –far too much for it to be a standard portion- being eaten with a certain grace. A familiar voice now laced with a degree of suaveness came flowing from the chamber, the light words caressing the air and eliciting more giggles from the woman. His flock of orange hair was easily visible in the darkness of his cell, his face accentuated by stubble contorted into a grin as he casually rested on the floor, cross-legged. He was clad in a pure white kimono and his neck was bound by red collar far too familiar for comfort. His keen amber eyes darted around with lightning speed, taking in his surroundings with something akin to paranoia.

When his eyes settled on me, his grin grew until it split his face from ear to ear. He made a gesture to the woman, and she leaned in closer. He gently whispered into her ear, causing her to shudder visibly. As he leaned back, she stiffened considerably. He made a small gesture with his head, and she turned around to face me. Her eyes widened in alarm as she bowed to me, Kurosaki snickering below his breath behind her.

"Captain Kuchiki!" She cried out in surprise, and it was all I could do to not tilt the corners of my mouth up in amusement.

"Could you please gather a mat and a cup of green tea for me?" I asked, pretending to not have noticed the exchange between the two. She nodded hastily, leaving to go acquire the items. Kurosaki bolted to his feet, bringing a stiff hand to his forehead in salute as his snapping his legs together.

"Captain Kuchiki," He greeted, bringing his arm back down to his side as he stood at attention.

"At ease, former Captain Kurosaki," The Living World terminology came out with practised ease. Kurosaki followed the order, relaxing considerably as he rested himself back onto the floor, picking up his food. The woman now came back with the mat, setting it down on the floor outside the cell. I bowed my head in thanks, setting myself down. She ran away again, most likely to gather my tea. She came back instants later with the tea. I dismissed her, and she hurriedly left, undoubtedly shamed by being caught flirting with a prisoner. I turned my attention to Kurosaki as he politely nibbled on his double portion.

"I see that you have been taking advantage of the situation," I stated stoically, receiving a chuckle from the orange haired man who had saved the entire world as a mere boy.

"You catch more flies with honey than you do vinegar," He proceeded to stuff another mouthful of his food. He then turned to me, his face a blank canvas mimicking my own, "Why should I not take advantage of the situation I am in?"

"In all honesty, Kurosaki, it is surprising that you simply handed yourself over to the authorities without so much as a fight. The young boy that attacked Soul Society without so much as a plan would have fought tooth and nail to escape being unjustly prosecuted," I replied, enjoying myself more than I could care to admit. Kurosaki kept his straight face, though his eyes gave away a degree of sadness, it was only brief however.

"A decade can do wonders to lingering naivety and rebellion, something I am sure you understand Lord Kuchiki," I could feel indignation rising, though one look at the man's eyes told of the jest in his words; he was just beginning to play the game. He took another bite with a grace and poise he had not held even five years earlier; a vague taunt. He placed his meal back to the ground, his eyes upturned to me. "With so many guards there at the time, someone else was likely to get injured. It was safer to just go along with the guards; if things go sour at my 'trial', I can always break out," He explained, his tone bearing no hints of arrogance, only stating a fact. My lips upturned slightly in amusement.

"I see that spending nine months in a prisoner of war camp has taught you a degree of wisdom,"

"It also taught me fifty-two different ways to kill a man with only a blunt toothbrush, so I wouldn't say it was all cherries and blossoms," came his sardonic reply, quickly to be covered by a light chuckle. "So I assume you are here on business, Lord Kuchiki,"

I nodded, taking a sip of my tea. "Correct. I am here to discuss your prosecution,"

This seemed to pique his interest. "Oh? So what news do you bring?"

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

District 51, West, 2 days after imprisonment

Random McRandomness, Member of the IDON'TKNOW Squad

The chatter and yelling and screaming was uproarious, the crowd descended on us with a voracity that would have made hollows sulk in shame. The leader of my detachment mindlessly shouted orders, though they were for naught; _I_ was running. I dashed to the nearest cover, my squad mates taking from my example. I rounded an abandoned cart, my hand falling to my zanpakutou as I peeked to where I had been standing. The leader looked to us in bewilderment, anger flushing her features as she drew her weapon. People started spewing from the many exhausted streets with any weapon they could find, dust in their wake. The leader of our group brought her weapon up in a familiar stance, and I nearly brought my head against the cart for my stupidity; how could I have forgotten my own shikai? No mere soul could hope to stand up to a Shinigami unit with shikai.

A loud crack resounded through the roar, leaving my ears ringing in sheer pain; and then she dropped. Horror washed over me as our leader swayed for a moment before she fell to the ground, blood rocketing into the air, leaving macabre patterns on the surroundings. I spotted a man sitting on the top of a nearby roof, wielding a long, metal pipe bound in a wooden stock. Smoke was visible from the end of the pipe, giving the regular man a rather eerie, spectral look about him. Such an illusion was broken as he jammed a rod down the pipe. Time seemed to halt as I watched the man, even the crowd coming to a pause. I was enthralled by the movements of this man, curiosity getting the better of me. He removed the rod and shouldered the peculiar device, though I was still unsure exactly of what it did. My eyes widened as more people joined him on the rooftops, taking their places adjacent to the twelve man unit –now only eleven left- all wielding similar contraptions , the wooden handle dug firmly into their shoulders. The rest of my unit remained stock still as we watched these civilians.

I gasped as fire erupted from the tip of the pipe, my eyes catching a glimpse of a luminescent blue object tearing through air. The same sharp snapping sound followed the eruption, my ears shrieking at the sudden sound. I could vaguely hear the scream of another of my squad members, but I couldn't see who it was as the rest of the civilians opened fire. The ground around me was torn up as the blue pellets smashed into the soil. The pellets destroyed everything indiscriminately, tearing down any cart, person, or even the earth if they were unfortunate enough to fall into the arc of fire. I watched as my colleagues were cut down by the boom-sticks, their blood painting the barren dirt. I was alerted to an inbound projectile a second too late by a horrible tearing and snapping of wood. A searing pain arced through my left shoulder, causing me to yell out. A quick look to the wound made me feel woozy; the muscle and tissue was nearly all gone from the exit wound while wood shrapnel protruded from the gaping hole.

When the firing ceased, I peeked my head out of cover. Another three Shinigami lay still on the floor, the drab walls of the nearby buildings coated in splatters of fresh blood. Viscera decorated the surrounding, leaving me nauseous. Two more appeared to be gravely wounded, leaving only six of us likely to survive. The rioters who'd previously watched the display of the boom-sticks now raised their weapons, chanting as they charged toward us.

"Run!" It was barely audible, but I didn't need to be told. All six of us took off as fast as we could, diving into a nearby alleyway as the crowd called for blood. I was leading the group, my left arm hanging to my side limply as my blood started to drip from the wound. We rounded a few more twists and turns before we declared it safe enough to stop. It seemed we were in a small courtyard hidden in between several of the small shacks that the Rukongai citizens inhabited. We all took a seat on the dusty, barren earth, panting loudly. I groaned in pain as I hit my shoulder against the side of a building. All of the others started tending to their wounds. I tore my own shihakushō and began wrapping the fabric around the ghastly tear in my shoulder. The roaring of the crowd started to dim, they'd undoubtedly passed our location.

After I applied my make-shift bandage, I perused the surroundings. The only thing out of place amongst the dreary brown walls of the building was the bright red mule emblazoned on the wall. Since coming to this damned district we'd seen it painted onto the walls of nearly every wall. The only thing that differentiated the symbols was what they were painted with; paint for the rich, blood for the poor. But it was always the same symbol; a mule transposed on a hammer and sickle, bound inside a circle.

"What the hell just happened out there?!" One of the remaining Shinigami yelled to the three of us, "What the hell was that thing they had?" Nobody had an answer for the man. We all hung our heads, the same question plaguing our own minds. What had just beaten us, fully trained Shinigami, with such ease?

Any musings were cut short as an unfamiliar presence washed over us. We jumped to our feet, hands all reaching for our zanpakutou. I winced as my shoulder throbbed with pain, though I did my best to ignore it as the presence approached. We all trained our eyes on the alley which we'd just come. There was nothing but shadow enveloping the alley. I swore that it had just been lit by the sun. As time dragged on in its torturous uniformity, the feeling of unease only increased. Then we heard it; the sound of metal as it stamped on the hardened earth. We watched as a lone figure emerged from the shadows of the buildings, her feminine form obscured by gnarled, plated white armor, something akin to the bone of a hollow, with a blood red mule painted onto her breast plate. She wore a bleached white helmet over her head, obscuring her face from view. The helm itself was triangular in appearance, with a large, pointed peak at the top of the helmet. Two diamonds of bone converged at the center of the helm, granting two large, black eye slits. She bore no weapons, though the threat she possessed remained pungent. We all unsheathed our weapons, pointing the blades at this newcomer. She gave no reaction to the threat of our weapons, instead continuing to move forward with her same, steady pace.

A bright, piercing light ruptured forth from her eyes, causing me to avert my own in pain. I found myself watching one of my colleagues, a rather brutish man with the highest reiatsu of our unit. He seemed to be averting his eyes as well. Sheer, unadulterated horror swept through me as his skin took on a dark hue. He screeched in pain as his teeth and nails turned pitch black, and his black hair became bleached white. The sclera's of his eyes turned black while the pupil inversed to white. A web like pattern of white around his eyes contrasted with his now much darker skin, causing a shudder to involuntarily make its way down my back.

The bright light ceased, and the woman was gone, but any thought of celebration was cut off as the now changed man bore his weapon against another of my comrade, engaging her in a vicious melee. He moved with a speed that I had never seen him possess, and his attacks brutalized the poor, shocked woman in his grasp. His reiatsu rushed from him with incredible strength, causing us all to take a small gasp. I jumped into the fray, defending the woman from an attack that would have broken her meager defenses. My bones reverberated as he slammed his weapon into my own, a dull ache now making its way through my good arm. His gaze seemed distant, his mind in a world of its own. I saw it as I knocked the man back; the reason for his change. Thin black tendrils wrapped delicately around his limbs, yanking his arms and legs to their bidding. The others of my unit moved in to assist in taking down this misguided comrade. His reiatsu would not relinquish its onslaught, though the effects were now visible in his face. His strong, filled cheeks were growing gaunt. His eyes were becoming dull. His skin was starting to fracture. Yet he fought on, spinning around and sending a downwards slice towards his original target. My body froze as his weapon careened through hers with a deathly crack, continuing its downwards arc until her head was severed. The thin tendrils of darkness tightened their grip, and his reiatsu increased exponentially. His muscles grew leaner and his stance began to sway. He turned to point the weapon at me once more, charging at me. His body now began to deteriorate, disintegrating into dust before my very eyes. His attack met my blade with only a fraction of the force prior, but it seemed that was all he had left in him. He dissolved completely at that point, his eyes haunting me as they returned to their natural hues, and the black strings let go of his body.

Any rest that may have ensued was cut off as the raucous of the citizens returned. Dust travelled into the sky in plumes as the ground shook under the stampede of people. The four of us left took up our combat stances, releasing our shikai so as to face the onslaught that would be entering the narrow alleyway. I cursed our luck; some greater power must be trying its hardest to destroy us, and it was succeeding. The rabble was now easily within tens of meters if the roar that accentuated the air was anything to go by. I felt the comforting presence of my zanpakutou -now in the form of a crescent blade- as it gently calmed my frayed nerves. As the first civilian rounded the corner, his garden hoe in hand, I brought my weapon above my head, gathering the reiatsu about it in preparation for attack. The man spotted the four of us, and let out an angered shout. One of my comrades entangled him with a Hainawa bakudo, letting his body slump to the floor. The rest of the crowd found their way to their own fallen comrade, snarling at us for binding him.

A sound like glass breaking caused my already tortured ears to scream in pain. My sword arm -still throbbing from my comrades attack- now felt like fire was coursing through the blood and muscle with a vengeance. My grip was shaken, and I let go of my weapon to grip my sore hand. My zanpakutou dropped past my vision, the blade shattered. I looked to my comrades, all gripping their own hands in pain as their souls counterpart lay broken before them.

"Uh, uh, uh! Don't cheat,"

I spun on my heel, both my arms now throbbing in pain. Standing above all else, atop the roofs, were four figures clad in armour standing abroad nonchalantly, backed by what looked like dozens of uniformly dressed soldiers, boasting a much more seasoned armor akin to that of a samurai. I recognized the one to the left immediately; the puppeteer woman from just before. There were two other women to her left, and a man stood at the center. Closest to the manipulator stood a rather stoutly built –if the armor was anything to go by- woman wearing bleached white armour not dissimilar to the first we encountered. The only distinguishable difference was her mask, which took on a wolfish visage.

The other woman looked completely different, wearing matte black armour, covered loosely by a thin black duster. A hood hooked over her head, shadowing her macabre mask. The mask itself was terrifying. The mouth started to the left of the mask as a thin red strip, before ending abruptly as the right side had been torn off, exposing the cheek as the support frame along the lower and upper jaw remained in place, held together by hastily welded strips. The eyes were small and dark though they shown dully, while a long, jagged tear down the right eye was lit by a current of purple energy; her mere presence sent shivers down my spine. In her hands, a longer, thinner version of the boomstick, all sleek, black steel. Smoke cascaded from the end of the tube. Long, thin blades run parallel to the barrel, granting solace to her hands as they sat between the boomstick and its blades. The wicked weapons culminated in the black stock, jutting from their gentle path to form a wicked, gnarled scythe.

Finally was the man, who wore an intricate black and red tail coat over the top of his cuirass. The sleeves of the coat were tucked neatly into steel grey vambrace, while his hands were tucked into the pockets of the trousers he wore, his calves covered by greaves of the same color. Unlike the female counterparts, he wore no helmet, exposing his sharp hazel eyes, short brown hair, and his smirk covered by dastardly goatee.

His eyes grew black, and his form was then sheathed in a rippling darkness. Some of the buildings surrounding us were soon glazed in the same blackness. The ground quivered beneath us, causing me to land firmly on my arse. As I regained my senses, I found myself enraptured at the view. The buildings were no longer in their places, instead dissolved into black shreds, reappearing rested upon the roof of their neighbors. The new entrances revealed more mobs, all poised, ready to charge with their makeshift weapons.

"I would suggest surrender, but I am afraid they won't take it," It was the unmistakable baritone of a male who spoke, the voice both hinted with sincerity and sarcasm . My eyes slammed open as I looked upon the man, a small smile tugging on his lips.

And then they charged, like a bloody horde.

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

Seireitei, Central Forty-Six, 4 days after imprisonment

Lord Yoritomo Hirose, Member of the Central Forty-Six, Head of the Hirose Clan

The man of the week came sauntering up to my polished, wooden desk, flanked by two guards. Their stance was rigid, their eyes boring into the orange haired 'delinquent' –hands bound in front of him and red collar wrapped firmly around his neck- with the ferocity of a mountain lion stalking its prey. With a pleasant smile, I gestured for the recently imprisoned man to take a seat. Though he didn't give much of an indication, his flitting eyes gave the impression of impression at the more modern –for the soul society- décor which I surrounded myself. Mechanical sculptures littered my desk, from the brass clock innards to the gyroscope; items usually found only within the twelfth division. The furniture all displayed intricate craftsmanship, all distinctly of western design, all looking positively Victorian. Atop my desk sat a porcelain tea set, embellished with golden trim and hand painted roses coiling up the sides, and a similarly decorated cup half filled with the bitter brew, filled with sugar and milk to sweeten it, resting upon its dish neatly.

"Good morning, Kurosaki; a pleasure to meet you. My name is Yoritomo Hirose of the Central Forty-Six and Head of the Hirose Clan."

"The pleasure is mine, Lord Hirose."

With a wave of my hand, the guards undid the shackles on his wrists and left their place at my guest's side, vacating the room. I turned to Kurosaki, gesturing to the tea. "Drink?" I asked casually, raising from my seat pre-emptively. Kurosaki briefly considered, before putting on a diplomatic smile to make politicians envious.

"I suppose a cup of tea would be perfect; if the water isn't filled with mud, it has to be better than what I get in my cell." He was definitely good, his charm very disarming. I made a motion towards the milk and sugar, which he politely declined, "I need something bitter to wake up my stiff muscles after sitting in a cramped cell for four days." I poured the rich, semi-transparent liquid into the cup and handed it to Kurosaki, who took a delicate sip of the hot tea in reminiscence of the aristocracy. Quite the change from the uproarious, rude young man who'd come rampaging through Seireitei. His eyes were still roaming the room, taking in the obviously very peculiar furnishings.

"What's with the English influence here," He asked, taking another sip of the bitter tea, "if you don't mind my asking?"

A vain chuckle escaped my lips as I brought the tea back up to my lips. "I've always had more of a fascination with the human world than my colleagues. I suppose the Industrial Revolution has always been a point of interest for me." My face contorted from the happy-go-lucky smile to one of grave severity. "But that is not why I called you here. You have been charged with the assault of members of the Gotei 13, the collaboration with enemies of the state, and insubordination."

A snarky smile filled his features as he gave me a look of faux incredulity. "Is that all?"

"Indeed" I confirmed, swirling my tea around in its beautiful cup. "As you are no doubt aware, the influence of the Central Forty-Six has been slipping. This has my colleagues scared their positions in society will fail. As such, they are attempting any and all methods to re-establish their power."

"I figured as much; I couldn't think of many other reasons for you to imprison me other than as a show of force."

"Believe it or not, Kurosaki, but the Central Forty-Six is not as unanimous as most believe. It is made of several factions vying for power." I explained, setting my cup down to once more look at the man, the severe tone to my voice still permeating the serious atmosphere. "I wasn't the one to issue the arrest order. Unlike with most things, voting is not required to issue an arrest. Individuals of the Central Forty-Six have the power to arrest any individual and hold them captive until their trial. It was likely one of the members of a more conservative faction."

"Oh? So which faction do you serve?"

I gestured to the room, the extravagant pieces of art and craftsmanship definitely not of Japanese origin. "As you can probably tell by my abode, I act for the more progressive factions. I guess one could say I am the de facto leader and spokesmen of them."

"And what do you want with me?" He queried, uncovering the root of the problem in one fell swoop.

"While the others wish to use you as a convenient sacrifice, I would think this an incredible waste of skill. Your influence is great, Kurosaki. Even now, members of the Gotei 13 and even the nobility are protesting against your arrest. Captains such as Zaraki of the eleventh have been on a rampage against the forty-six" I sifted through the mountains of paperwork on my desk, bringing a particular file to the fore labelled, _'Seireitei Report: Fall 2025' _and cracking the barest of smirks.

Kurosaki snorted in amusement, lightly smiling. "Suppose I shouldn't have expected any less from him."

I smiled in agreement, taking another sip of my very sweet tea. "Precisely; It is my hope to use such influence to help aid the forty-six, or more specifically, the more progressive members of it."

"That's incredibly straight forward for a politician, don't you think?"

"If I was merely a politician, I doubt I would get anything done." I quipped back cryptically. Kurosaki grinned at my response, evidently pleased.

"So what exactly are you offering?"

"A job, Kurosaki,"

"Yeah, well, I could just go get one at the Gotei 13; less trouble than being a politicians hound." He dismissed, feigning disinterest.

"That would be all well and good, except you are in prison for high treason against the state; it doesn't leave very many options." I reminded.

He cocked an eyebrow at me, deadpanning in response. "Threats, now?" He sighed.

"Not threats, facts," I stated coldly, receiving a cocked eyebrow from the ex-soldier. "I know as well as you that if you don't take up my offer, you'll be sent to prison where you have two choices; wait out your term, or escape. I should think the former is not an option, and the latter would lead to the forty-six announcing you an enemy of the state; a grave hindrance for all involved, especially you if you're planning on doing anything while here."

His gaze gave away his suspicion as I spoke. The hard, almond eyes probed at me, finding any signifier to what it is that I was hinting at. "I suppose that is true."

"Besides, I doubt that you would be joining the Gotei 13 anyway." I commented offhandedly, eliciting a full blown glare from the man.

"And how would you know that?"

"Call it a hunch" I replied drily, sliding a small stack of papers towards him. Though I could not see it now, I knew exactly what rest on top of the pile; a photo. A photo containing sixty men and women, all dressed in drab, olive urban camouflage and beret, all bearing the insignia of a sword crossed with rifle –the symbol of the Coalition Special Forces- with over forty of the soldiers faces circled and crossed; killed in action. He looked at the photo in utter shock, the colour draining from his face, his hands shaking in the slightest. He quickly ran through the paper, sifting through the smaller bundles it consisted of, each devoted to one of the soldiers on the photograph. He turned to me, quizzical glint to his almond eyes. "I have spies all over the place; in the world of the living and in Soul Society. Accept my offer, and you will not only have the charges against you dropped and be given lands and titles, but you will have these agents and those of the second division at your disposal; something to help your little quest go by that much quicker." I answered, sating his curiosity. His face began to return to a more natural hue as he mulled over what I'd said.

"I don't think I have met another politician as blatantly ruthless as you." He gave a wry chuckle, obviously amused at the entirety of the conversation. He lifted himself from his seat, hand outstretched. "Very well, I'll become your attack dog, just point me in the right direction."

His handshake was firm and solid, no hint of weakness to it.

"Excellent. Go check in with my secretary for the mission brief, then head to security to secure your possessions; I'll just be in here making a few calls to the lovely Soi Fon." Kurosaki nodded, rising from his seat as I turned to the window, a black Jigokuchō waiting patiently for its next order. As the door to my office sounded, I turned to Kurosaki, smirk firmly planted on my face, "Oh and Kurosaki?"

He turned to me, intently watching from his position halfway through the door.

"Welcome back to Soul Society,"

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

_If anyone thinks that Byakuya is out of character, I can defend his sudden warmth. First of all, look at his father Sojun Kuchiki. Second, he has found purpose and kinship in his sister, thus voiding the lack he had prior, at least in private. Third, read the section between Byakuya and Ichigo again if you didn't pick up that Rukia was wrong about something in the second chapter._

_I personally enjoyed writing for Lord Hirose; say hello to Ichigo's new employer, the eccentric, outspoken progressive politician/businessman planning to revolutionize Soul Society! And now I've added a little more dynamic to the Central Forty-Six…. I suppose parliament is as good as any to use as a template._

_Sorry if Ichigo seems a little… different. I suppose he is a bit OOC. But hey, you don't go through ten years of being a pseudo-spy/spec ops soldier without changing a little. and now, he is a Mercenary…. Huzzah?_

_Well, another chapter done and dusted. I appreciate any support that you may be willing to lend; my ego doesn't fuel itself_


End file.
